


Coronation

by Peach_Pit



Series: His Majesty, Ignis Scientia [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, Anal Fingering, Anxiety, Blow Jobs, Bottoming from the Top, Canon Disabled Character, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drinking, Drunkenness, Finger Sucking, Fluffy Moments, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Feeding, Kissing, Licking, M/M, Making Love, Oral Sex, Post-Apocalypse, Riding, Social Anxiety, Spoilers, Touching, emetophobia warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 08:03:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10612686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peach_Pit/pseuds/Peach_Pit
Summary: There is so much for a new king to do, so much with which to be concerned, now that Eos's darkness has lifted. How shall King Ignis spend his coronation night?(Future/King Ignis AU)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SongOfMarbule](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongOfMarbule/gifts).



> SufferCon 2017...ends? Yes, I wrote something more than pure sadness. Some would even call it...nice! Just a bit of anxiety to melt into bliss this time.  
> Note that the drinking here is disconnected from the sex, if you saw the tags and were concerned.
> 
> Timeline-wise, the beginning of a [series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/733122) of stories involving Ignis as king. See also: [Nights Without Sleep](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10553416) (sad), [The Realm of Kings](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10498812) (very sad, and the end).

_“King Ignis Scientia, one-hundred-fifteenth ruler of Lucis, first of his name. May his reign be long and bright.”_

_“May his reign be long and bright!”_

Newly adorned with a crown suiting the ruler of the nation of light, Ignis faced his public; their roaring applause, their cheers and calls rose to his ears. For him, the man who had so long been a background figure behind one with a much bigger purpose, the sound was surreal. Was all of this…for him? Were these the people now at his command?

Yes.

It seemed that destiny had called on him. He would face his people boldly, bold as the light that Noct had shed for them all. Standing in the square amid a crowd bigger than any he had heard in over a decade, Ignis felt confident knowing that Noct watched over him.

The roar gradually died down into deafening silence. When all was still, Ignis spoke.

“It is by the sacrifice of King Noctis Lucis Caelum CXIV that I come before you today. Not only was Noctis the True King and savior of this world…he was my dear friend. Someone I would have died for. His friendship I shall cherish for the rest of my days. He gave his all: his life, his spirit, his very being…to bring light back to us. Truly, to all of us — a new light has been imparted upon this land, one that we shall not squander, in his name. Our realm is now free from the scourge of daemons, of Magitek and such dark machinations that plunged us into darkness. We shall never forget. Those we lost. What we suffered.

“We shall use the strength we gained during the Decade of Darkness to fortify our place in the world. For those of us who would move forward together into this new life, the future shines bright. Yet I know among you there is still doubt, there is still fear. Without a doubt, this world has been wounded; that, the light displays clearly. Rather than despair, let us unify in our effort to begin its restoration. Let us help the world heal, for its healing is our healing. Let us work to do more than to live, but to thrive. For the sake of our children…and their children.”

Before any response could be had, a lone voice broke into his speech, rising above the crowd. “The Six didn’t choose you!”

It was true. The king was chosen by a relatively crude poll after several names had been suggested. It was more of an election with a very limited amount of campaigning. Everyone eligible for consideration was already well-known among the vestiges of Lucian society, and none so popular as Ignis.

However, a select few would fail to recognize any king past the true line of Lucis Caelum. Some even suggested that there should be no king at all.

“Six or no, I now hold the seat of Lucis. Whether they deign me unworthy of this position is yet to be seen; however, the prophecy of the Oracle has been fulfilled, the purpose of the True King realized. The Six shall live their separate roles as I live mine. Should they come to me, or to someone else, we shall await what happens.”

Ignis stood tall.

Still, the people of Lucis were, at times, brazen.

“Must we have a king? Why not a prime minister? Or a president?”

“Or no one!”

The king maintained his composure. “I am what I need to be for the sake of Lucis. Make no mistake — as king, I serve the people first. You are all my legs, my body, my arms, my eyes — without you, I can do nothing. I ask that you walk alongside me for the sake of our society.”

A cheer broke out, rising like the first peak of sun over dawn’s horizon.

For the moment, hope was all that he could offer.

Standing nearby, Prompto stared tensely into the crowd. Hand at his gun holster, as Gladiolus’s was at the hilt of his broadsword. Were they anyone else, the defensive stances they held may have seemed too threatening. They were more focused on Ignis’s words. They stood at attention.

They always stood by their king.

❦

Months prior, in the square before the citadel, a large statue of Noctis had been commissioned by Ignis himself. Such an effort came together to craft it in loving detail — a monument to Lucis’s savior, a testament to the friendship he had shared with his successor. People who had come from far away to again reside in their original home admired it daily.

Prompto would visit at least once a week, checking in on his old friend. Ignis allowed him to linger after the speech; he looked up at it now, eyes meeting Noctis’s resolute and caring expression.

“Hey there, buddy,” he said, patting the base of the statue. “Well...it finally happened. Thank the gods, right? Some of those other choices, _woof_.” He grinned a little before sitting on the statue’s base.

“Heh...yeah, I think Iggy’s gonna make a great king. He wants to do well. And people like him… Almost everybody, in fact. Didja even hear that crowd? I think things might be okay. Days like today… Well, I can just feel it.” He turned to glance upward again. “Just keep an eye on us, all right? Iggy’ll do fine, but don’t let me or Gladio get outta line.” He snickered, giving the statue another pat.

Before leaving, he gave a leaving glance upward at Noct’s face. Wistful, though knew his friend was with him.

❦

Gathered in the grand halls of the citadel for the reception, people came from far and wide. The feast was open to all, Lucians and outlanders alike who had made their homes in the newly reclaimed Insomnia. Grand was the affair, bright and brimming with hope and nostalgia. They had cultivated an atmosphere of openness, of invitation and expression. Plus, there was a _lot_ of wine and more food than anyone had seen in one place in a long time. In the year since the first New Dawn, they had already made much progress in holding their world together.

Prompto Argentum, now Commander of the Crownsguard, and Gladiolus Amicitia, High Commander of the Kingsglaive, kept close to King Ignis as they had during his coronation. As Kingsglaive, Gladio would shadow Ignis as often as possible in sensitive times such as these; Crownsguard Prompto, on the other hand, always had his eye on the people at large. Still, Prompto didn’t know very many people at the party. Scouring the crowd for familiar faces, he thought maybe some of the people he knew had left after the speech (after all, they did have fairly important jobs at the outposts of Hammerhead and Lestallum), blanking on every single face he looked over. _This isn’t good_ , he thought. _I should know everybody by now…_

“Prompto, Gladio, please feel free to enjoy yourselves today,” said Ignis, turning to them with an amicable smile. “Don’t feel the need to guard me so closely. I trust in you, wherever you go.”

“I just have a feeling,” Gladiolus said, arms crossed, not moving from Ignis’s side as another random attendee took Ignis’s hands in a firm and friendly shake.

“Thank you. Ah, Gladio. I know how you get about your _feelings_.” Ignis turned toward Prompto. “Have you seen Coctura yet? You should speak with her.”

“I haven’t seen anyone,” replied Prompto, dissatisfied tone coloring his face. “There’s a whooole lotta people here, though…”

“Go on, Prompto. Gladio will keep an eye on me.”

“Yeah…right, okay.”

Prompto’s stomach still bubbled in highly social situations. It would be better if anyone he knew was around… He hated drinking, but he walked over to a table and snatched one of the available cups and a bottle of Zinfandel, pouring just a bit…you know, to loosen up a little. Nothing more. He caught a whiff of the stuff (it always smelled better than it tasted), sloshing it around a little in the cup before taking a small sip, letting it settle on his tongue. Mmm…disgusting. He took another.

He could feel a small twinge almost immediately. He almost felt bad for drinking at all, but this was a day of celebration, after all. He had permission. And he was very happy that Ignis was going to be the king. _His_ king… _His_ Ignis… What a joyous occasion indeed. He smiled. Yeah, maybe all this would work out after all.

While standing at the table, he overheard a couple talking lowly a short distance from him.

_“…think the True King’s work is really complete?”_

_“Well, yeah. Just look around you.”_

_“I know, but is Magitek really gone for good?”_

_“You heard the king.”_

_“Then how do you explain…_ that _?”_

The hairs on the back of Prompto’s neck stood up. He felt two pairs of eyes fall on him. He didn’t turn to face them.

 _“What, are you scared of ‘_ that’ _? Those are just rumors.”_

_“There’s always some truth in rumors.”_

_“No, that’s not a thing. That’s not true.”_

_“It’s the leader of the Crownsguard now. Can you believe it? Do you feel safe with_ that _around?”_

_“Forget it already.”_

After a pause, Prompto poured himself a full cup of wine and downed about half of it at once. His body shuddered as he began coughing. Hard. It was fine. Other people do it all the time. If he were lucky, his nerves would be deadened within the hour.

❦

Thirty minutes later, Prompto weaved through the crowd, balancing himself with each step, attempting to find his way to the edge of the gathering. There were just too many people. Where’d they all come from? After all, no one from Lestallum seemed to be around. The afternoon waned, slowly, but the numbers didn’t seem to dwindle. People needed this respite, he supposed, as the world undulated around him.

 _Do you feel safe with_ that _around?_

Words echoed in his head.

He accepted another cup of wine from a table as he passed it by, downing it in record time. His ears burned and his muscles swam.

❦

“Hitting it pretty hard, huh?”

Prompto had stumbled face-first into Gladio. Even at this moment, several wine cups later, he wasn’t fully aware of what had just happened. He looked up at Gladio from his chest with a groggy, cockeyed expression. His lips were stained deep red with wine — not a great look for him.

“Ignis didn’t give you free reign to get trashed tonight, you know,” Gladio continued, gruffly slapping his hands onto Prompto’s shoulders and holding him in place. “What are you doing? You don’t drink. You’re a fucking wreck.”

“I — I know—”

The large man’s tone was low but sharp. “Then go sober up. We don’t need the new admin soiled by your shitfaced antics. If I catch you with another drink, I’m gonna break you in half.”

Good advice. At just the advent of sundown, Prompto was already hammered and just about ready to piss himself. He’d knocked over a number of things he already couldn’t remember and probably repulsed and/or amused more than one attendee. By the grace of the Six, he hadn’t yet made a big enough scene to attract Ignis’s attention.

“Where’s Ignis?”

“Don’t concern yourself with that. Get some water and sit down.”

Gladio shoved him off in the direction of a table with water instead of wine. Prompto grabbed one of the cups of water and plopped himself down in a chair at the room’s edge. He dropped his forehead into the palm of his free hand. He was already getting a headache, strange metabolism that he had. Metabolism, and the fact that he hadn’t ingested a single other thing all evening. Worse, still, was that his stomach still hurt, roiling with anxiety and wine.

 _How do you explain…_ that _?_

The hair on his arms stood straight.

Rubbing his forehead, he guzzled down some water, then shuffled off again to find the restroom before he did cause a scene.

❦

Stepping back into the hallway from the restroom after some time, Prompto saw a couple of familiar figures further down the dark, fire-lit corridor. Ignis and Gladio were headed in the direction of the royal personal chambers. Was the party over?

Prompto caught up with them, stumbling openly with a marionette’s coordination and, fortunately, little to crash into. He caught the taller men by their shoulders as he came to an awkward, poorly timed stop between them. “Hey, boys, where we off to? Night’s young.”

“Prompto, you smell heinous,” Ignis gasped as he turned, hardly able to speak through Prompto’s breath.

“Yeah, I, um,” Prompto began, losing the words to finish his sentence. Gladio only looked at him with disdain. “Hey, don’ look at me like I did somethin’ bad! I’m already feelin’ better.” He covered his mouth before he could hiccup loudly enough to light up the chamber.

“Prompto, we need eyes on the party,” Gladio growled, hoping his tone would help Prompto sober back up.

“Oh, sooorry, _High Commander_ ,” Prompto slurred, taking a mocking tone. “I didn’ know you commanded _me_ , too.” He hung off of the two like an ape drunk off of fermented oranges. “Guess I’m in the Kingsglaive again? I-is an MT even capable?”

“Compose yourself, Prompto,” Ignis said, pushing Prompto back slightly to distance himself from his breathing.

“I can’t send him back out there like this,” Gladio said, frustrated.

“It’s time for you to go home.” Ignis righted Prompto by holding onto his shoulders. “Think you can make it?”

“Do _you_?” Gladio snapped, taking in Prompto’s form. The youngest man could hardly hold up the weight of his own gear, slouching and wobbling.

“I know someplace I’d rather be,” Prompto laughed, stumbling in place onto Ignis with a saucy, red-toothed grin.

A jolt went through the new king, and he tried to stand Prompto back upright. Prompto draped his arms around Ignis’s shoulders loosely, a sultry look in his half-awake eyes. Ignis tried to shift his weight off of him.

“Gladio, I’ll take care of this.”

Incredulous. “What?”

“You’re dismissed.”

Gladio grimaced. “Tch.” Turning around, he marched back toward the reception area, taking with him his aura of disgust.

When Gladio was out of earshot, Ignis continued. “Prompto, I’m tired, and you’re drunk.”

“I’m coming down.” Prompto drew his arms closer together behind Ignis’s neck.

“ _Handsome_ as I’m sure you are right now, we’re not doing anything until you’re completely sober. Besides, your breath could kill a catoblepas.”

“Fiiiiiine,” Prompto moaned, defeated. He couldn’t defy the king’s orders, after all.

Ignis lay a small peck on Prompto’s arm as he removed it from around him. “You should listen to me; I’m the king now for a reason.” This king may have put away a few drinks of his own. His gaze, unseeing, nonetheless met Prompto’s eyes: tired, with a hint of frustration. Even in this dark hallway, they remained pale. The king endured Prompto’s uneven breathing. “You never drink, not like this. What’s the matter?”

“I’d, rather not,” Prompto said, attempting Ignis’s accent poorly.

Deep inside, he figured that Ignis must have known the reason. Ignis and/or Gladio. They were the only ones who could know. So, who said it, and when? Still…he couldn’t be mad at Ignis. He was the king now. The king could say whatever he wanted, whenever, for whatever reason.

_There’s always some truth in rumors._

…He hadn’t been the king before now.

“We’ll talk when you’re sober.”

Ignis put Prompto’s arm around his shoulder and led him back to his personal chamber.

❦

Ignis deposited the drunken man on his royal bed before leaving the room for a moment, entering his personal bathroom to freshen up. He’d spent a hot day in all his new formal wear; at this point he felt disgusting and bushed. He shed his cape, his crown, his jacket, leaving them hung upon the door. He washed his face, splashing cold water until he felt more awake, then toweling off gently, taking care near all the scars. Ran his fingers through lengthening hair. Replaced his glasses and stepped in a coordinated fashion to exit the room. In the time since the results of the election, he had already memorized the layout of this end of the palace. Ambulatory pathways remained clear; necessities in his private chamber were kept easily accessible.

When he reentered the bedroom, Prompto had already passed out. Good. He hoped the man would get some rest now that the day was almost over. He did wonder what had upset Prompto to drive him to this state. He had never been like this, not even in all the years of dark strife. Though, because Ignis did not experience this situation before did not mean that it hadn’t happened.

He thought of Prompto’s MT remark. Had it come up somehow…?

He sat on the grand bed opposite the younger man, producing his phone from his pocket. He spoke in an almost whispered tone. “Okay, Moogle.”

His phone responded with a tiny “ _Kupo!_ ”

“Read me the news.”

As it read, he scooted closer to Prompto, placing a gentle hand on his head.

“Kupo! Lestallum Power Outage Leaves City Extra Warm! Kupo! Caem Under New Leadership! Kupo! Missing Convoy Located in Leide! Kupo! Grand Lucian Coronation Goes Off Without a Hitch! Kupo! King Ignis Scientia, Lucis’s One-Hundred-Fifteenth King! The Coronation—”

“Okay, stop.” He let out a low hum. “Lestallum power outage…That must be why we’re missing people today. I should have been informed of this sooner. I’ll have to…”

He felt the other stir beneath him. A quiet groan.

“Apologies if I disturbed you, Prompto.”

“Bathroom.”

“Sorry?”

“B-bathroom…”

Prompto strained the word, shooting upward from under Ignis’s hand, stumbling out of the bed, and scrambling to his feet.

“To your left.”

Prompto caught sight of the open door a little ahead of him and ran in, tumbling back to the floor on his hands and knees roughly by the toilet, only missing it slightly before squaring himself. Ignis heard the sound of violent vomiting echoing from the bathroom, filling the chamber.

Ignis followed him inside, gently dipping to his knees beside him and pulling back his hair. He’d already soiled the longer strands.

Prompto continued throwing up for several minutes, little more than red wine and acid, even when he thought he had nothing left in him. Eyes red, nose running with the same water draining from his tear ducts, he coughed and collapsed in a heap when his stomach finally subsided. The king rose to take a cloth and wet it with warm water. Taking Prompto’s head into his lap, he used it to gently wipe Prompto’s face as he lay there; the tears first, then the streaks of wine from his face and feather-light hair.

“Not how I expected my coronation night would go,” he remarked.

“Sorry,” Prompto managed.

Ignis didn’t seem mad. He stroked Prompto’s head gently. Struggling breaths heaved in the younger’s chest.

“Iggy…” A weaker cough. “Help me up?”

Ignis helped Prompto to his feet, leading him back to the bed. Prompto swallowed his stinging pride as he flopped over on the bed as quickly as he reached it. He soon passed out again atop the comfortably firm pillowtop mattress.

❦

Prompto stirred again at some late hour. Across the bed, Ignis slept flat on his back, still in most of his clothing. He’d fallen asleep with his phone in a gloved hand. At some point, he had removed Prompto’s jacket for him, leaving just the mythril-patterned vest beneath.

Stretching sorely, Prompto rose and returned to the bathroom to wash out his mouth. He was so parched that he drank straight from the tap, cupping water and drinking from his hands with thirst. He rinsed his face and the longer parts of his hair, ineffectively drying them, then rising to look at himself squarely in the mirror. His eyes were worn and his face gaunt. Maybe not eating anything for almost an entire day wasn’t such a great idea. He looked to see if the mess he'd made remained, but it seemed that Ignis had already cleaned up. A king, cleaning after him… And he’d noticed, even without his sight…

Rubbing his face, he stepped back into the bedroom to find Ignis waking, having shuffled over to his side of the bed.

“Feeling any better?”

“I’m hungry as shit.” His breath was tolerable now.

“Ah.” Ignis shuffled over to the nightstand at the farther side of the bed, grabbing a medium-sized, decorated box. “These may not be too nutritious, but it is a special occasion. And, perhaps, they may be your quickest option, considering that apparently the party’s died down with food running out.”

He handed Prompto the box as he sat beside him. Inside was an assortment of sweets, candies and chocolates and small cakes, lovingly decorated, topped with rare berries and cocoa, prepared such that they could have only originated at Hammerhead. Too good for the likes of him.

He replaced the lid. “But these are yours.”

“I’ll hold nothing back from you tonight.”

Prompto sat beside his king, setting the box in his lap. “Nothing?”

“Maybe a particular _something_. If you’re still not feeling well.”

“My stomach feels a little better.”

 _How do you explain…_ that _?_

…In his mind, as soon as he said that.

“…It’s surprising how much better you can feel after throwing up.”

In truth, Prompto’s chest still burned, his abs still ached. He figured any food would take the edge off, but…he’d only caused more problems for himself.

Ignis placed a hand on Prompto’s back, rubbing gently between the shoulder blades. “Quite.”

“If you won’t hold anything back from me tonight, then tell me.” Prompto kept his eyes off of Ignis. “How do people know about me?”

A confused sound.

“People are…talking… _about_ me. My… _history_. I only ever told Noct, Gladio, and you. Noct couldn’t have told anybody.” Prompto started to feel as though he should have kept hiding his code.

“Neither I nor Gladio have any reasons to have spoken about it to anyone.” Ignis’s tone was even, direct. “I never told anybody regardless. Gladio simply doesn’t care; he wouldn’t say a word to anyone about your origins.”

Prompto knew that Gladio was very just-the-necessary-facts about professional communication, and sometimes even personal talks. He wanted to believe Ignis, but…doubt still clawed at him, slicing its way up from the depths of his stomach. Stress had been chewing him up of late; this was only the icing on the anxiety cake.

“It’s not far-fetched to believe that someone may simply have made the connection between your bar code and the others’,” Ignis continued. He knew that appealing to logic never satisfied Prompto, yet facts continued to emerge. “The remnants of the imperial infantry were studied intensely by some while the Starscourge was still being analyzed. Information about them spread to those who had the capacity to hear, and people are quick to draw conclusions.”

That may have been true. It wasn’t reassuring.

After a pause: “This is what’s been bothering you?”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.” Ignis paused again. Pensive. “I think it’s important to remember that you’re different than what people think of you.”

“Is that so.” Prompto had more confidence than he did in youth, but he still felt as though people’s perception of him was…generally a true reflection of him, for better or worse.

“For example: I do not know who the people out there rallying against maintaining the position of ‘king’ see me as. Perhaps they view me a betrayer to the throne of Lucis. But I know my own beliefs. Many doubts, but more beliefs. This much is important: remember yourself. Trust yourself.”

Prompto groaned, frustrated. “Ugh… How could they even say that stuff about you at a time like this? How can’t they see what you’re capable of as king? That Noct himself would’ve wanted this? We’re trying to keep everyone safe, aren’t we? No, we’re _already_ keeping people safe.”

“There will always be dissenters and those that disagree,” Ignis mused. “We mustn't let them singlehandedly impede us. Not physically, nor mentally. Do not forget: regardless of your origin, you are now who you have always been. A strong partner. A good friend. Best friend to the king.” He would’ve winked if he could.

Prompto looked at Ignis, milky-white eyes cast blankly in his direction, face warm with the subtlest upturn of the edges of his mouth. He let the older man’s visage slowly melt away the remnants of his anxiety, coming apart like a warming glacier, calmly remembering the privilege that he held. “And you… You’ve always been…” Stronger? Warmer? The light of his life?

They had bonded strongly since their encounter with Leviathan so long ago. Prompto had found depths of caring within him that he didn’t think existed in those dark times. In the murkiest hours of the Starscourge’s spread, their time together had been scarce, but each meeting had been more intense than the last, each time renewing the love in Prompto’s heart. Even remembering them now made his heart jump.

The first time Prompto felt both his hands engulfed by Ignis’s. How warm they were.

The first time their teeth had knocked together in a kiss that reached deeply as they could manage.

The first time Prompto had felt someone else’s flesh close around him, pressed against sleeping bags in a distant tent.

The bliss, knowing someone cared enough about him to allow him inside. Knowing that, of all people, it was _Ignis_.

The thoughts swam in his head.

“…just wonderful.”

Silence. Ignis could feel the temperature rise in the room. He also felt a magnetic tension emanating from the man beside him.

Finally, the king spoke out.

“Don’t let me catch you drinking like that again.”

“Sorry, Your Majesty. Guess I vomited all over your big day, huh?”

“I’m still glad to have your company. I wouldn’t be able to rest before knowing you were better.”

Ignis reached for Prompto’s lap and took the box of sweets, setting it in his, opening it gingerly and removing a small chocolate topped in pink icing, holding it Prompto’s way.

“You still need to eat.”

Prompto blushed slightly. Embarrassed, he was glad, for a split moment, that Ignis could not see him…though he was close enough that he could probably feel the younger’s flushed heat. Prompto softly took Ignis’s hand, guiding gloved fingers to his mouth, gently taking the sweet from between thumb and forefinger with his tongue and lips. A hint of lips clasped the fingertip as they closed around the treat and drew away.

“Mm…this is really good. Lemme guess… Coctura made these?”

“Indeed. They are small treasures, aren’t they?”

“I dunno what we’d do without her cooking.”

Ignis held up another sweet, a small chunk of icing-and-blueberry-topped brownie, and Prompto repeated his actions. The raw surge of sugar made him feel awake again.

“Mmm, I really like that one.”

The king searched for another similarly-shaped sweet in the box. After taking it into his mouth, Prompto chewed and swallowed hastily, then licked the icing off of Ignis’s fingertips, holding the hand still as he nibbled gently at the tip of the king’s glove.

Intentional, subtle motions. If the king could see Prompto’s expression, he may have stiffened then and there.

When Prompto released his hand, Ignis returned it to the box, fingers trembling with excitement. He kept a firm grip on a small truffle as he held it up and forward with muscle memory. Prompto bit it in half first, juice of the cherry spilling over his lip, then ate the rest out from between his fingers, softly squishing milk chocolate and sweet fruit. He lunged forward again to kiss the remnants from Ignis’s fingers when Ignis inserted his forefinger deeper into Prompto’s mouth, squishing around his tongue. Prompto’s tongue flicked around it, mouth closing in a loud kiss, squeezing against it, then another. Ignis slipped another finger in, Prompto’s mouth eagerly accepting it as his tongue lashed between them, drooling slightly. A breathy moan accidentally escaped his mouth.

Ignis continued stroking the inside of Prompto’s mouth, gliding along the teeth and gums, pressing beneath his tongue, almost sneakily dodging it as he felt around as he pleased. Ah, a small dance inside of his mouth… He loved whenever Prompto did this. Prompto withdrew slightly to bite the tips of gloves gently, this time pulling at them, latched so that the slipperiness of saliva wouldn’t allow them to give way. Ignis unbuttoned his glove at the wrist so that they tugged away easily with Prompto’s playful, almost doglike tugs.

Once the glove was off, he let it drop and kissed along the top and sides of the king’s hand, then continued licking at sensitive fingertips. Ignis grabbed his tongue between his index and middle fingers and toyed with it slightly. Prompto clamped his lips down, sucking on them fully and occasionally applying pressure with his molars. Ignis enjoyed his warmth and pressure, his heart rate increasing. He felt the length of Prompto’s tongue slide against sensitive fingertips as he withdrew his fingers, then reinserted them. Prompto moaned again, intentionally this time, a line of drool slipping down his chin.

Ignis suddenly withdrew his fingers.

“Iggy—”

The bigger man leaned in, pressing his mouth into Prompto’s. Ignis’s scarred lips found and closed around Prompto’s, his tongue licking away stray cherry juice and taking in the sweetness of Prompto’s mouth. Gently cupping his head, fingers laced in golden tufts, he drank from the other’s mouth, swallowing, licking, swallowing again, sweet and passionate laps that went straight to his head. Reddening, Prompto inched his body closer, pushing the box of sweets aside, needing to press his torso against Ignis’s. Sitting now facing him with his legs astride Ignis’s body, Prompto could feel in his seat that he’d gotten the new king _excited_. Likewise, as he rose and grinded, holding onto the king for dear life, his own hardened flesh pressed through tight pants into Ignis’s stomach as they continued to kiss.

Ignis ceased to catch his breath. Prompto, too, panted, their eagerness getting the better of them.

Prompto chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re out of breath already. That doesn’t bode well for the rest of the night.”

“Prompto, let me suck you off.”

“Hey, this is _your_ special night.”

“We’ll get to me later.” A pause. “Do you not think that doing such gratifies me as well?”

“You have a point.” He supposed it wasn’t hard for him to get off when he had Ignis in his mouth, too. The sounds he made _alone_.

“Besides, I get to do what I want tonight, correct? And tonight I want to reduce you to a screaming mess on my bed.”

Prompto blushed again. He tried not to think of how this bed once belonged to Noct’s father. That there was a ruler now to claim it was good in and of itself. The world was moving forward, always, pressing on.

They could christen it together. First time in the new world. Make it theirs.

Prompto flopped off of Ignis, beginning to undo his belt. “Well, if you’re up to the challenge.”

“It’s never been that difficult.”

Ignis already had Prompto memorized. In whatever time they had, he wanted to love him completely, so he learned it all. Even in the dark, he knew Prompto’s body. Crawling atop him, Ignis snatched Prompto’s lips up into his mouth one more time before moving down to his neck, where he sucked at the soft, thin skin until it turned deep red; his shoulders, where he pinched lightly at the meat with his teeth ‘til the other vocalized; his chest, now rising and falling heavily. The king kissed him softly upon the mithril lining of the vest as Prompto began to slide it up and peel it away. Shedding his outer lining, his bare, pale, toned torso was exposed, nipples pink and deepening with a flush to the chest. Ignis ran his palms across them until they hardened. Prompto gasped.

He gave one nipple a peck and a lick before continuing downward, kissing along Prompto’s soft, nigh-invisible treasure trail and running his hands along the smaller’s arching back until he arrived. They repositioned themselves slightly, Prompto sitting up and shifting to the edge of the bed, Ignis on the floor, head between Prompto’s thighs. Looking down at Ignis, Prompto shuddered. This view of Ignis was always the hottest, especially in the moments right before the act. Below him, face full of lust and desperation. Attention fully focused on him.

Ignis opened Prompto’s pants, gloveless hand carefully pulling down the zipper, and took out his dick and balls, longing fingers gliding across its length before taking firm hold. Prompto could feel the older man’s hot breath against his now-exposed arousal; it hardened more in his grip. Smiling, Ignis placed a quick kiss right on the tip, flicking his tongue out briefly as he pulled away. He listened for Prompto’s response — a relatively husky breath — before continuing, pleased. Ah, he loved it; it was the perfect size for him. He played with Prompto’s tightening foreskin, running his tongue along it roughly.

“Q-quit teasing,” Prompto huffed.

“I thought you could take it.” Another cock-kiss. Ignis drew Prompto’s legs around his shoulders, getting in even closer.

“I… _hngh_.”

Prompto forgot what he was going to say as Ignis took his dick fully into his mouth. He relaxed the back of his throat, letting the tip of Prompto’s erection massage it as it pleased while he bobbed his head violently. Prompto’s fingers dug into the corners of the mattress, freckles burning red, toes curling inside of his boots. _Shit, it’s been too long,_ Prompto thought. Even the very sound of it stiffened him like a board, never mind the feeling. Reaching with one hand, Ignis cluched his partner’s buttock, fingers grasping firmly; with the other, he softly massaged the balls between bare forefinger and thumb, drawing his head back to suck hardest on Prompto’s tip. The blonde one nearly screamed, grabbing Ignis by the hair.

Ignis squeezed his lips more tightly around the ends of Prompto’s member, sucking as if to claim Prompto’s very soul. Precome and sweat alike, he would drink all of Prompto, even as it drained down his chin. Prompto threaded both hands deeply into his king’s mane, about ready to lose his mind. “Y-yes… Fuck…”

Ignis knew that tone.

Prompto lost it, Ignis taking in as much as he could before it began to overflow. It turned out that Prompto had a lot in store for him… The king withdrew and swallowed as his face continued to be decorated with warm streaks of white, much like the streamers that had fallen at the moment of his crowning. His shades stained. His composure maintained. The younger gasped and sighed as his volcanic eruption subsided.

“I-Iggy…”

Ignis silenced Prompto with another kiss, cleaning Prompto off thoroughly with tender licks. Prompto gently massaged his lover’s scalp with his fingertips, low gasps echoing in the chamber.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he breathed.

“Am I, now?” Spoken almost snarkily, but with a sincere tinge.

“Even more than back then.” _Especially when decorated…_

“I’m glad to hear it.” Ignis swiped a bit of the mess from his chin onto a still-gloved finger, placing it into his mouth. Prompto nearly jumped at the sight. Slipping out from under his legs, Ignis rose to his feet, lips meeting Prompto’s along the way in a brief, sticky kiss. The line of semen broke between them. “I’m going to tidy up a little.” He excused himself to the bathroom.

Prompto touched his lips as he watched Ignis walk away, feeling the smear of his own seed. His body still trembled, laced with electricity pulsing from top of head to bottom of feet. He had to calm down. He flopped onto his back, looking up at the canopy of the bed, basking in the moment’s glow.

Sinking into the sheets, he felt his blood begin to cool after long moments and started wondering what was taking Ignis so long. He sat up and shed his boots and pants before standing. Venturing into the bathroom, he found Ignis without his shades, nude but for his open shirt, applying a salve to his rear opening.

“Getting gussied up just for me?” Prompto grinned wide, walking in and wrapping his arms around Ignis’s waist. “What did I do to deserve this honor?” Prompto laid sweet kisses on his king’s lower neck, tantalizing lightly tanned skin. He watched Ignis and himself in the mirror as he teased him lightly. The king was already eager, arousal standing to attention as shivers visibly ran down his spine.

“You were…there for me…in my darkest hours.” A sincere reply.

“Oh, Ignis…” Prompto turned Ignis to face him, grasping at his hands. “If I could only do more…”

“You’ve done plenty.”

He turned his head to kiss Prompto while an exposed hand moved a pale one to his opening, damp and welcoming. Prompto slid two fingers inside, feeling his king pulse around them. A soft moan emanated from his royal lover. He was _ready_.

Still kissing, Prompto led him back to the bed, tossing him down as he climbed over him. Ignis flipped him over, turning the tables, capturing Prompto’s plump lower lip once again to clean it completely as he applied his weight to Prompto’s body. He couldn’t get enough; to this day, the sweet visage of Prompto’s younger self stayed with him in his mind, and he could picture it now as he bit and sucked at the other’s mouth, craving more and more of him, cock grinding into his hip. How he longed to connect their heartbeats. Prompto was rigid again before long, caught in the passion of his adoring king’s onslaught as hands grasped for one another’s flesh. Prompto shuddered deeply as Ignis ran his hands from the subtle stretch marks on his rear up to his abs. He _knew_ how much Prompto loved that.

Rising to his knees, Ignis located his partner’s member, giving it a few firm strokes before lining it up with his opening. He fumbled with it a bit before giving it a little press. “Don’t forget what I said.”

Breathy. “Huh?”

Ignis sat himself down, tight opening pressing firmly around the head before shuffling further down. Prompto felt himself throb, finally reintroduced to Ignis’s inner warmth. As quickly as that, Ignis began to move, angling his hip left as Prompto continually slipped in and out of him. Deep, almost guttural moans followed, the bigger man squeezing with as much pressure as he could muster.

Ignis’s deep breaths fueled his partner. Prompto latched onto Ignis’s thin hips, already mewling with pleasure, sparks going off throughout his body. His fatigue gone, his anxiety dissipated. This…this was it. He’d face a million terrors for Ignis; he’d endure pain and fight every single day if it meant they could just be like this at the end of it. The soft squish of Ignis against his length made him somehow even harder, growing to reach the man’s deepest depths. As if he needed something else to hold onto, he wrapped his fingers around Ignis’s leaking cock, keeping hold as it slipped up and down with his movements. He wanted to convey through touch the fireworks going off in his system, make the man explode. He wanted to kiss him, bite him, make him feel like the only other man on the planet. He would twist his cock and thrust until Ignis forgot he’d ever loved anyone else.

Ignis only paused briefly to steal more kisses between thrusts. It didn’t matter where they landed; on a nose or throat or chest, each connection was electrical, each withdrawal accompanied by a cry for more, voices and bodies calling out. That he got to be here with Prompto, even today, on the precipice of something grand…this was all he could think about. He could lose himself in Prompto’s smell, his taste. He pictured the vast, shimmering oceans of Prompto’s blue eyes and gasped. Prompto popped out of him accidentally a couple times; the king slammed himself back into him to compensate, continuing to bounce. The next time he slipped, Prompto instead sat up quickly to plant wet kisses all over Ignis’s chest, pulling his body closer and making love to his firm, tan body, hot and soft licks dodging deftly around the scars. Hardly able to bear it, Ignis pushed him back down and sat back onto him. He had to finish this.

Their manner was frantic; in a matter of minutes, they were both reaching their peaks. Prompto plunged upward as much as he could in rhythm with his king’s manic pulsing, unable to keep himself from yelling. Ignis’s smell was intoxicating, a mix of lavender and the day’s sweat dripping onto him. His face, so close, expelling hot and intense breaths, already glowed. In the home stretch, Prompto pressed himself deep, stroking Ignis’s special spot with every thrust.

“Fuck…yes…Ignis.. I…I…”

“Ha…ah… Prom…”

Ignis first spilled forth onto Prompto’s chest, the force nearly sending his come to Prompto’s neck. Prompto followed, emitting into Ignis, the king moaning and shivering around him at the rush of throbbing warm liquid he felt inside.

Before he could remove himself, Ignis took in the sound of the mess lying beneath him. In nothing but the dim backlight of the bathroom beyond them, Prompto writhed beautifully, shaky breaths filling quiet air, skin still aflame, dark blue eyes he could not see nonetheless locked on him. Eyes only for him.

King Ignis collapsed atop his lover, the lull of sleep descending upon him too quickly for him to remove himself. There, he listened to Prompto’s heartbeat until he spoke.

“Ignis…”

“Prompto.”

A laugh. “I remember.”

Another laugh joined his.

“You'll be a fantastic king.”

“You think so?”

“I just know it.”

A kiss. A breath.

“Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to/inspired by [Callie](http://saturnvalleycoffee.tumblr.com)! Who also edited this, lol... Love you!
> 
> Follow my [spicy tumbo](http://lil-peach-pit.tumblr.com) for what will eventually be more good, good FFXV content.
> 
> Also, look for a relatively elaborate fic set in this fanon at some point in the future!


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